


The Lord of Crimson Manor

by dk323



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Forever (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover Pairings, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James is abducted by a witch. At Abigail’s urging, Henry sets out to rescue him. Yet he discovers that it’ll take more than saving James to heal what has been broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lord of Crimson Manor

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in the year before The Horse and His Boy in the Chronicles of Narnia book series. Susan Pevensie is about 25 years old here (it's the year 1013, and she was 12 when she came to Narnia in 1000). James is 30 here.
> 
> Mentioned in the sneak peek, but just thought to put it here too -- Prince Corin is the prince of Archenland.

**A year and a half ago:**

“You should go home, James.”

“Do you believe it’s that simple, Henry?”

Henry just looked at him, his face blank. But James believed it was only through Henry’s force of will that his expression was neutral.

Meanwhile, James could feel the turmoil inside him as he tried to accept that he’d made a terrible mistake. He wondered if the hurt showed on his face. If it did, maybe it wasn’t good enough to expose the mask Henry was putting on now.

“For an immortal Lord, you still have a lot to learn.” James shot back at him.

“You have to learn to accept the truth.”

And then Henry turned around without so much as a goodbye. In disbelief, James stood there wondering where the Henry he had known for five years had gone.

Returning to Crimson Manor, James thought his footsteps echoed louder than before. His home seemed too big for him, overwhelming almost. He wished being home, the place he had grown up in and inherited, would make him feel better. Ease the hollow ache of his heart.

Instead, as James looked at an old painting of his parents and him when he was a boy, he felt even more lost.

What was he going to do now?

~ * ~

**Present:**

**Crimson Manor in Archenland (south of Narnia)**

“This is nice,” said Susan.

James’s arm was around her shoulders and her head rested on his chest. She couldn’t imagine a better place to be than here.

“Hmm?” James said, sounding distracted.

Susan looked up. “Being in your arms,” she answered, her smile widening. “Are you all right, James?”

She was concerned, frowning, when she saw him pale and sweat collected at his brow. “You need to take your potion.”

“You mean my poison,” James said in a bitter tone. “I don’t have it in these chambers. Don’t want to tempt fate and have this be a sick bed.”

He sighed as he sat up in bed. Susan sat up too, wiping the sweat from his brow with a cloth from the bedside table. She brushed his curly hair aside.

“I know how much you dislike it. But if you’re not feeling well, I can retrieve the vial for you. I don’t want to see you collapsing again if such an event can be avoided.”

“No, that’s fine, Susan. I can walk to get it. It’s only down the hall in what used to be my mother’s room.”

James kissed her deeply, leaving her breathless from the intensity of their lips pressed upon one another.

Susan knew he intended to assure her it wasn’t as bad as she made it out to be.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, my love. Don’t worry.”

James climbed out of bed. Yet it was slowly. Susan didn’t miss him gripping the small table by him as he tried to orient himself and gain his footing. He put on a shirt and pants, his face growing pale with a slight pained expression upon it.

“Are you feeling nauseous? Dizzy?” Susan asked right away.

“Not at the moment.”

The answer was too quick and Susan honestly doubted the truth of the statement. James had been through a lot in the past year. She knew he tried to be strong, to bear his troubles as bravely as he could. Susan was aware she didn’t know the full extent of the burdens James carried.

After all, she had only been with the Lord of Crimson Manor for six months. Hopefully one day he would be willing to tell her all that was weighing him down.

If she remained careful, Susan knew Peter wouldn’t fight her too much on this one indiscretion. Neither she nor James had another, so this relationship wasn’t completely scandalous.

Besides, she had grown restless lately after having strange dreams of her, Peter, Lucy and Edmund leaving Narnia forever.

The thought of abandoning Narnia, the land she had grown to love as a Queen, broke her heart. Now after she was beginning to fall in love with James, Susan couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him.

Susan reached out to grab his hand. “James, please.”

James smiled at her. He squeezed her hand in return. “You’re here to relax, not to worry about me. I won’t be long. But all the same, I appreciate the concern no matter how unnecessary it may be.”

Susan gave him a look, balking at the “unnecessary” remark.

James touched her cheek, Susan closing her eyes as she felt the soft caress on her skin however brief it was.

Still reluctant, Susan let him go when he released her hand.

The minutes passed by and Susan grew anxious especially when she heard a dull thump outside the room.

It sounded like someone being struck by a hard object?

“James!”

She wrapped the bed sheet more firmly around her. From the top drawer in the bedside table, Susan grabbed the dagger she always took with her when her bow and arrows proved excessive. Especially for a visit to see her lover, far from a battle situation.

Until perhaps now.

With that uneasy musing, she rushed out of James’s room.

By the light of the mounted wall torches, Susan’s hand shook as she saw a small pool of blood. She gasped, just short of letting out a yell.

Was the intruder still in the Manor?

“O Aslan,” she whispered as she knelt down. “I should have tried harder,” Susan said.

She should have been more insistent on getting the potion.

And now James was in danger.

She touched the blood with one trembling finger.

The blood was crimson in color.

~ * ~

Abigail supported a weary Susan into the drawing room.

“You look exhausted, Your Majesty.”

“I didn’t know what else to do but ride here. It was the longest two hours of my life. But you needed to know about James. He was taken, and I’m not sure by whom. I heard a sound like he was hit with something hard. When I left the bedroom, I saw a bit of his blood on the floor in the hallway. You need to find him, Abigail. I’m not sure where to begin. I didn’t unearth any clues that would help.”

“Do not worry. I will do everything I can. I do still consider him my brother-in-law. I worry about him.”

Susan sobered, recalling that James’s first wife died just a year ago. It was absolutely awful.

“I’m sorry about Lady Elizabeth’s passing. Her untimely death must weigh heavily on you still.”

Abigail sighed. “Yes it does,” she said. She smiled reassuringly at Susan. “Henry and I will make certain he is found alive and well. You should return home, Your Highness. I imagine your brothers and sister are worried about you.”

“I would love to help, actually. Yet Peter has been none too happy with my relationship with James.”

“He will always be your brother. It will be wisest not to increase the divide between the both of you. Though I know you care for James, I doubt he would want to be the cause of an irreparable rift between you and the High King.”

Susan nodded unhappily. “You’re right. I can’t be reckless. I shall return to Cair Paravel, though my heart aches that I can’t assist you.”

“You have told me what has happened. That is a great help, I promise you.”

“Thank you for your kind words.”

Susan stood, hugging Abigail.

“You must have some sustenance before your journey,” Abigail insisted.

She led her into the smaller dining chamber, shaking off her protests.

“I almost forgot to tell you. And it’s important,” Susan said as she ate.

“What is it?”

“James hadn’t taken his medication for his dizzy spells before he was abducted. I fear he may fall unconscious or worse. What if he’s found too late?” Susan said, brow knitted in worry.

Abigail grasped her hand. “James is strong. He won’t be defeated so easily. Believe in that.”

“Yes. I should have faith. I simply can’t stop worrying about him. No one should be threatened in their home.”

“I agree. But you will see James again. Rest assured, My Queen.”

~ * ~

When Henry returned home, he was concerned when he saw Abigail’s unhappiness gracing her face.

“Abigail, what is wrong? Is Abraham feeling ill?”

“No, no, Henry. Abe is doing well, sleeping soundly in his crib. Louisa is looking after him.”

“Then what is it?”

“James is missing. Someone took him.”

“James? How did you find out?”

“Queen Susan came to inform me. She was quite distressed.”

“The queen was here.” He said.

Henry knew that he sounded far from happy. Any time he thought of the queen, his mind would settle on James.

Henry remembered the winter feast two weeks ago at Cair Paravel.

_He had gotten into an argument with James. Unfortunately it was a common occurrence when he saw James over the past year and a half. The happier times seemed so far away, and though Henry recognized it was mostly his fault, he still wished he could fix the mistake. Though he worried it may be too late._

_The hall at the castle was decked out in winter adornments. Laughter permeated the room and people chatted animatedly. Henry watched as James listened to the 13-year-old Prince Corin’s story along with Queen Lucy. The queen’s clear almost musical laugh blended well with the lighthearted mood of the festivities._

_A little later when James passed by where Henry was, he caught him by the arm._

_“James,” he said._

_He pulled him aside into a quieter corner._

_James looked at Henry’s grip on his arm, and then at Henry’s face._

_“Good to see you, Henry,” he said, his tone clipped and businesslike._

_As if Henry was more like an acquaintance than the man he’d loved in what seemed another lifetime ago._

_Henry was certain James meant the opposite._

_“Where is Lady Abigail?”_

_“She’s talking to a friend of hers from Archenland. How are you doing?”_

_“I’m fine. I can’t talk long, Henry.”_

_“I don’t think your association with Queen Susan is wise.”_

_“You can think whatever you like. You’ve made your feelings for me clear all those months ago.”_

_“You won’t have a future with her, you know that, James. She will have to marry for political reasons, not for love. Are you accepting that you may be her secret consort? Is that what you want?” Henry whispered to him, his voice a hiss as he tried to get his opinion across._

_“It’s better than being alone. For six months after –” James paused._

_Henry knew he was talking about those months after his wife died._

_“I don’t know why you care. I need to go, Henry. Please.”_

_“James, I think you are going about this too fast. What about the child you could have had? You didn’t give yourself enough time.”_

_Afterwards Henry regretted bringing up his unborn child. The stricken look flashing across James’s face made Henry wish he hadn’t gone that far. Yet silence wasn’t a gift he’d been given._

_“I apologize,” Henry said quickly._

_James pulled away from him. Henry’s now slackened grip allowed James to free his arm._

_Henry saw him head over to Queen Susan. The pair slipped out and weren’t seen for at least an hour. The cheeriness of the feast gave Henry a headache. Though Henry appreciated Abigail’s effort, not even she could make him feel better._

“I know you and James are not on the best terms presently, but he needs your help. You need to find him and bring him home.”

“Where would I even begin to look, Abigail?”

“I think a witch took him. It’s the best explanation I have for how the abductor came and left so quickly. And I know James has had dealings with a witch…”

“A witch? Why would he seek out a witch?”

“Does it matter? The important thing is that a witch may have taken him. And you must go to Archenland to rescue him.”

“After the White Witch, I can’t believe there are other witches daring to declare themselves.”

“I know your feelings on witches, dear. But I’m certain those who remain are suitably discreet about their nature.”

Henry remembered making a hurried escape out of Narnia when the White Witch, Jadis, cursed the country with a long winter. He’d never imagined it would be hundred years before he would return.

Henry had always preferred Narnia over Archenland. The fewer humans, the better. He disliked the scrutiny his immortality brought upon him.

Over a hundred years ago, he’d grown deeply concerned that the White Witch would capture him, and experiment on him to learn more about his immortality.

So Henry had fled to Archenland, becoming a part of the human exodus out of Narnia. He’d felt awful, of course, leaving the Talking Beasts of Narnia behind. Some of whom he had made good friends with.

But the fear of being locked away under the control of the vicious and powerful White Witch, Aslan’s greatest Enemy, was stronger.

Much stronger.

Henry pressed his hand to his forehead. He sighed. “Very well. I am the last person James would want to see, but I don’t want him hurt if I can stop it.”

“I’ve hurt him enough already. I need to save him, to begin to heal what I’ve broken. If I even can.” Henry thought to himself.

“Oh I’m so glad to hear that, dear,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him on the mouth. “Then hopefully the both of you can reconcile. I will stay here to watch Abe of course, with Louisa. I trust you’ll find him,” Abigail said.

Her confident words gave Henry the strength he was finding hard to muster up at the moment.

Gratefully, Henry listened to what Abigail knew about where the witch lived. That provided a welcome distraction from thoughts about his damaged relationship with James.

~ * ~

James woke up slowly. There was a dull pounding at his head. He automatically raised his hand to touch the spot where it hurt. His mind was fuzzy – knowing something had happened, but not sure of what exactly it was.

He was surprised when he felt a dressing on the injured area instead of blood.

What had happened?

He had been at home…and Susan had been there.

Oh no. Was she all right?

Judging by the smaller, harder-feeling bed; he was definitely not at Crimson Manor anymore. But who would take him and then treat his head wound? Someone who didn’t want him dead, undoubtedly.

The other odd thing is that he wasn’t feeling unwell. No dizziness, no feeling like he wanted to vomit what he’d last eaten. He hadn’t taken his potion, and usually at this point, he would have fallen unconscious. Someone would have to get the medication into him so he could wake up.

What was going on?

He sat up in bed. He noticed a vial of potion and a goblet of water on the small bedside table. He figured the potion could very likely be the potion he required. But since it was done by someone unknown to him, he wasn’t laying a finger on it.

James heard the door creak open. A women with long, silver-white hair practically floated into the room in a flowing lilac dress. She was pretty, but dangerous too, as she looked like she knew full well how to use her attributes to gain an advantage. The familiarity of her appearance gave him pause.

She spoke then, her smile pleasant. “Hello, James. I know you’ve met my sister, Prudence. I am Fleur.”

That explained the resemblance. It was familial. He had hoped never to see Prudence again, and that extended to any blood relation of hers. Regrettably, he was out of luck on that wish. He had to find a way out of this predicament.

Prudence had been the witch who had cursed him with this affliction. Granted he had asked for it.

His feelings regarding Prudence were conflicted. She had helped and cursed him. Every bit of magic came with a price – she had warned him. But his time with her left James with a bitter taste in his mouth. And a strong desire never to ask for her help ever again.

He had to take a potion two times a day to combat the affliction. He had learned how to make the potion to insure the correct ingredients and amounts were in there.

“What do you want?”

“Are you going to thank me for taking care of you? I treated your wound and gave you the potion you need.”

“I’m not too happy when a stranger gives me a potion. I don’t know what else you put in it. And are you not the one who struck me in the head? I’m not thanking anyone who chooses to attack me.”

“You’re feeling fine, so that should be sign enough that I am to be trusted.”

“Or whatever you got me to drink will take some time to affect me.”

Fleur sighed, raising her hands. “Being paranoid must be so tiring. You should relax.”

He climbed out of the bed. He could feel Fleur’s gaze on him as he tried to open the door. Before he even tried the handle, James predicted it would be locked.

It was.

He turned to her. “Let me go,” James demanded.

“No, I don’t think so. I have an offer that I think you will be interested in.”

“I doubt that.”

“Even after what my sister did for you, it must still be hard to see this Lord Henry.”

“I manage well enough. Unless you can provide a cure for this affliction I have, I’m not listening.”

“That I do not. But I do have something. I can make you forget him – this Henry who still haunts you no matter how you try to deny it.”

“And what will be the cost of that? What do you want?” James said.

Although he had already decided he would never take the offer. He had been weak once when he allowed Prudence to do her spell on him. He had promised himself he wouldn’t be that weak again.

“I have spoken with Prudence, and she believes you possess magic. That you come from a family of witches masquerading as healers. They didn’t want association with the White Witch, so they were careful with how they presented themselves. They left Narnia, did they not when the White Witch took over and brought on the Hundred Years’ Winter? She would have seen your ancestors as a threat – especially if they were opposed to her rule and used magic against her. And yet you decided not to return to Narnia when the White Witch was defeated.”

“That was a long time ago. Archenland is the only home I know. I don’t see reason to move.”

She smiled, looking smug. “Even though you’re spending time with Queen Susan of Narnia?”

“What. Do. You. Want?” James said, trying his best to keep his distance. “And Susan better be unharmed.”

He felt an impulse to go to her and shake her by the shoulders as if it would make the answers come out of her mouth.

“I did not touch the woman you chose to consort with. I can assure you of that,” said Fleur. “So are you not denying magic being in your blood?”

“If I had magic, I wouldn’t be making myself suffer with this tedious illness for the rest of my life.”

“You are refusing to answer me directly.”

“You want magic? The more, the better, is that it?” James asked, feeling impatient.

He imagined to some witches it was like an addiction -- the more magic they could obtain, the greater opportunity for more powerful spells to be performed.

“You must have some inside you, though it may be dormant. If you aren’t using magic, it should be no trouble to release it from you.”

“Even if I wasn’t using it, it’s my birthright, passed down from my ancestors. I would never give it to a smug witch like you. Did you honestly believe this would be that simple?”

Fleur appeared unfazed, straightening her dress sleeves absently. “I could take it by force.”

“Why don’t you try?” James goaded.

Before she could do anything, James grabbed the potion vial. He had never tried this before, and wasn’t sure he would succeed. But he had to trust his mother’s instructions she’d given him when he was a child.

He smashed the vial on the table and cut his forearm with a broken piece of glass.

“What are you doing?” Fleur wanted to know, sounding especially alarmed.

James repeated the words his mother had spoken aloud years ago. Blood magic was powerful magic.

“You wanted magic?” He quipped, trying to keep his voice steady.

He was anxious. But to make sure this worked, James knew he had to find the confidence within himself. He took a deep breath, relaxed, and hoped for the best.

He watched the blood pool around the cut. He took his other hand and smeared some of the blood over the inside of his palm and a few of his fingers too.

He raised his bloodied hand, the inside of his palm facing toward the unnerved witch.

“Goodbye, Fleur.”

With one final word, James’s blood left his hand in a straight line, gaining length as it flew toward the witch.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when it would strike the witch.

Fleur seemed frozen in place, still in shock as the blood shot toward her. She covered her face to protect herself. James was surprised that she wasn’t doing anything to stop him. Had he surprised her so well that she was at a loss to answer his attack with her own?

It happened so quickly that he couldn’t believe his eyes. The line of blood coiled around Fleur, trapping her as it wound tightly around her. The blood halted her movement leaving her transformed into a red statue.

While James was relieved he’d stopped her, he remembered hearing of the White Witch’s wand. How it had turned people into stone. Stone _statues_.

The similarity was a bad coincidence. He was nothing like the White Witch. He had been trying to protect himself. He hadn’t known…

Still, the stories of the White Witch’s terrible, evil deeds worried him. After the Pevensies had begun their reign, the stories of the White Witch’s icy grip over the country of Talking Beasts filtered into Archenland. He had heard them multiple times – and could never forget them.

But he wouldn’t let himself get distracted. What was done was done. He had needed to defend himself.

And now he had to return home before the symptoms of his affliction would weaken him.

He stepped forward, and with a trembling hand, he touched the statue to make sure it was unmoving. It was made of dark red marble. The statue was so lifelike that if it weren’t someone he’d trapped in that form, he’d be impressed.

~ * ~

As Henry traveled in Archenland, he recalled the first time he had met James.

It was during the Summer Festival in Narnia seven and a half years ago.

_With a smile, he watched the Fauns and Dryads dance and be merry within the heart of the woods. Only six years after the White Witch was vanquished by Aslan, Narnia was back to its former glory. Even brighter and grander than before with the Pevensies on the throne. An air of hope and optimism spread through the land._

_He saw a curly-haired man and dark eyes sitting on a log. He was handsome, dressed in a deep red shirt and fitted dark pants. He was young, just in his early twenties Henry decided. But after how long he had lived due to his immortality, everyone appeared terribly young to Henry. Regardless of the irony of him being perpetually in his mid-thirties -- no matter how often he tried to find an elusive gray hair on his head._

Henry took a seat beside him.

_“Hello,” Henry said. “I’m Henry. And you are?”_

_“I’m James. I’m visiting from Archenland.”_

_“I do recall hearing about you. Do you live in Crimson Manor? If so, I’m sorry to hear about your mother and father.”_

_James looked at him, giving him a small smile. He twisted a deep red jeweled ring about his finger._

_“The story traveled fast,” he remarked. “But thank you.”_

_“I apologize for speaking of their deaths. I imagine you have had your fill of condolences.”_

_“It’s all right. I can’t escape it. Being here for the festival is better than walking the halls at home, feeling how much emptier it is now…after… It's unpleasant.”_

_“Yes I can understand that. I felt the same when my parents passed away. Home did not feel like home anymore. It felt hollow, colder.”_

_James nodded. He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He let out a laugh. “It’s a wonder we found such a sad subject amidst this joyous occasion."_

_He waved his hand at the scene before them. The Dryads kept on dancing as the Fauns played their lutes and other musical instruments. Talking Beasts and humans were laughing and smiling, some falling over half-drunk. Others danced, tipsy, while couples kissed under the setting sun._

_Henry moved closer to James. “We should join them. If you want to,” he suggested._

_James’s smile widened. “I think you couldn’t have had a better idea.”_

_Henry put his hand on James’s face and pressed his lips to James’s, a tentative pressure then stronger as James reciprocated with enthusiasm. James’s lips trailed down his neck, and then he maneuvered Henry on to the soft grass._

The night was one Henry would never forget.

Henry sighed as the memory faded away. He urged his horse onward. The two of them had been happy for six years, their friendship growing into something more.

Yet Henry met Abigail just over two years ago. He fell in love with her. And she had been willing to move from Archenland to Narnia to live with him. Before he planned to ask her to marry him, James had made a confession to him. He apologized to Henry for waiting this long since he knew Henry had grown close to Abigail. James had told him he’d fall in love with him, that he didn’t believe he’d love anyone as much as he did Henry. He had to make sure he was certain with how he felt – that was why he took that long to finally confess the depth of his feelings.

Henry was so stunned yet angry too. He had developed strong feelings for James too, but he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Abigail. So he told James he didn’t feel the same way. That it was best he left.

Months later, Henry regretted being so cold toward him. He had lost more than he had anticipated that day. He had lost a friendship he had depended upon and once it was gone, he felt like a piece of his heart had grown hollow, empty.

If he’d known that before he’d rejected James, then Henry would have acted differently. Been kinder in expressing how he felt. He should have told him he still wanted his friendship, he still wanted to be a part of his life. That though he had Abigail in his life, he still needed James too. Maybe Henry couldn’t have given everything of himself to James, but James didn’t deserve a cold rejection.

“Henry!”

Henry, surprised, stopped his horse.

Henry saw James only a few feet ahead of him. He wavered on his feet, looking like he would faint. Henry was grateful Abigail had given him a few vials of the medication for James.

“James? Are you all right? How did you escape?”

“She let me go.”

James shrugged.

Henry didn’t believe him. There had to be more to it than the witch releasing him.

His smile to Henry was grim as he pressed his hand to his brow.

“My head feels awful.” He sounded resigned.

James looked like he was moments away from falling.

Alarmed, Henry hurriedly climbed off his horse. “Sit down, James. Please.”

James did so, probably too unwell to have the energy to argue.

He grabbed his bag with the vials.

He rushed to James and knelt down beside him.

“Here,” Henry said.

He opened the vial and pressed it to James’s open mouth. He drank it gratefully.

“Thanks,” James said.

Henry let him rest against his chest. He was grateful James had shown Abigail how to make the potion. She was his sister-in-law after all despite Elizabeth’s death. Henry was hurt that James hadn’t shown him. It made sense of course. Henry had rejected him, so James surely had felt that he was the last person who would want to help him.

“Tell me what really happened, James. Who took you? Abigail believed it was the witch you sought out in the past.”

James removed himself from Henry’s embrace. He shifted over, placing some distance between him and Henry.

“It was the witch’s sister actually. She offered me something, but I wouldn’t give her what she wanted in return. She was unhappy about that, but she did let me go. However reluctantly.”

Henry raised his brow at him, not believing his words. “James, I’ve lived over 150 years. I’ve learned how to tell when people are not being truthful to me.”

He reached out to grab James’s forearm.

“Why is your arm bleeding? Tell me.”

James frowned at him, ripping his arm away from Henry’s grip. “I’m sure you have your secrets, Henry, after living so long. Let me keep mine. I accepted the truth that you don’t love me the way I did for you. I’ve moved on, so stay out of my life and I will yours.”

Henry gave him a clean strip of cloth from his bag. Grudgingly James took it to tie around his wounded forearm and restrict the blood flow. Henry wondered if it wasn’t just James’s affliction that had made him faint, but the loss of blood. Why he hadn’t treated himself before Henry had come, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps he was more intent on increasing distance between him and the witch that the wound was neglected?

“Being a consort to a queen? Is that it? Does this make you happy?”

“Fine,” James said. He looked resigned. “I should tell you. Maybe then you will fully understand.”

“What is it, James?”

He couldn’t look Henry in the eye as he spoke. “The reason I went to a witch a year and a half ago was to ask her to remove something from me. And this chronic affliction I have is the consequence of this.”

“What did she remove, James?”

Henry already suspected what he would say.

“My feelings for you, Henry. I couldn’t bear to have them any longer after your reaction to my confession. Maybe that was a poor way of ‘accepting the truth’, but I was desperate and impatient. I should have dealt with what you did in a more natural way. Allowing time to heal the ache in my heart. But I was not thinking clearly at the time.”

“This is my fault,” said Henry.

“I never wanted to tell you. I knew you would think that. But you have your life now, and that doesn’t include me.”

“No, James. Do not say that. Don’t even think that. Abigail and I both care for you. Abigail, at least, if you didn’t believe she cared about you, then you wouldn’t have shown her how to make the potion you require.”

“Abigail was especially insistent. I had no choice,” James said weakly, sighing. “All right, I concede you do have a point. But I should go.”

“I can take you back home.”

“I would rather go alone. But thank you, Henry, for coming. I appreciate it.”

He turned away from Henry.

“James,” Henry called him back.

He took the other two vials in his bag, and put them a smaller pouch for James. “Here. So you won’t feel unwell.”

He handed the pouch to James. He nodded to Henry.

Henry watched him walk away. He had a lot to think about. He felt like he had lost James all over again, knowing now that James’s feelings for him were gone. Replaced by a bothersome illness that would trouble James for the rest of his life. For James to love him that much, that he couldn’t bear to carry those feelings any longer after the rejection – it made Henry want to weep.

_Oh, old friend, I wish I could make this better. Make this right._

~ * ~

James saw Susan on his way home.

“Susan?” James uttered, surprised.

Susan climbed off her horse, smiling, as she went to him and embraced him.

“I’m so glad you’re all right! I hated I couldn’t come to save you, but luckily Peter had a change of heart. He was concerned that you were in danger. I suppose I convinced him on how much I cared for you. So he let me go. What happened? How did you escape?”

“I can be resourceful when I need to be. I’m happy you’re here.” James smiled, hoping she would accept that for now.

“You must be exhausted after your ordeal. I could take you back home. Is that all right?”

James agreed. “Yes. I can’t decline an offer from a Queen of Narnia.” He teased.

“Oh honestly.” Susan shot back.

James pulled her close to him. A small gasp of surprise came from Susan as he kissed her deeply on the mouth to quiet her.

~ * ~

King Edmund investigated the house of the witch, Fleur her name was apparently, who had abducted his older sister’s lover.

He wasn’t sure what to make of seeing a red statue of a woman in the house. It had to be the witch. It matched the description he gained from those who had seen her. Though it was hard to tell for certain since she was a statue now.

Who had transformed her in such a way? Could it have been James? Is that how the Lord of Crimson Manor escaped and been able to meet his sister as she rode to save him?

Edmund could not help think back to the White Witch and her dreaded wand. The one that turned any being into stone statues.

He shuddered at the memory. But he also remembered that he had betrayed his siblings to her. Until he had seen the terror the White Witch caused. And he had deeply regretted how his frustration with his siblings had led him to make a terrible decision. If he hadn’t come to his senses, seen the light… he could have lost his family forever.

But if James had some sort of magic to turn people into stone, then Edmund had to believe it was simply in self-defense. From what he’d seen of the man, he seemed like a good person.

Edmund knew what it felt like to be shunned, so pushed aside that he was willing to betray his own flesh and blood. He wasn’t going to start a witch hunt for the other man, and destroy his life in the process. His sister cared for James, and he deserved to tell his side of the story. James deserved a second chance as Aslan had given Edmund another chance years ago.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he said.

Then he took a lit torch and put it to the statue so it would burn and turn into ash.

The fewer bad witches in the land, the better.

~ * ~

Henry made a visit to James’s home, intent on speaking to him after giving himself time to consider what James had revealed to him. The two of them stood on the balcony outside James’s bedroom.

“I know I can’t fix the hurt I’ve caused you. Beyond discovering a way to travel back in time, that is. But I still care for you, James. Even if you don’t love me the way you used to. A spell may have taken that from you, but--”

“You think the feelings can return?”

“I don’t believe magic is as strong as hope. As desire…”

“You’re married, Henry. And you have a child too.”

“But I still care for you. I still have room in my heart for you. I love you. In a different way than I do Abigail, yes, but still it is just as true. I miss you. I miss the friendship we had and the other things too…”

“This isn’t fair on Abigail.”

“She encouraged me to come, James. I told her about you, and how I missed you. She hated the rift between us as much as I did.”

“Are you sure?” James pressed, appearing doubtful.

Henry answered him with a kiss to the lips. James returned the kiss, but it was only a light touch, half-hearted at best. This was what the spell had left on him – more than that affliction, but the loss of want, the desire to kiss Henry with all he had. It was going to be a long road for them, but Henry had all the time in the world for him.

“As sure as there are four thrones at Cair Paravel,” he said afterwards.

“I still care for Susan. I don’t want to end my relationship with her.”

“I know,” Henry said. “But we should give each other another chance. We can love more than one person, can we not? We have to try.”

James nodded, though he still looked uncertain. He set his hands on the balcony railing, looking out over the Manor grounds.

Henry placed his hand over James's.

James turned his head to look at him. “You’re right. I shouldn’t let this spell defeat me.”

Henry smiled as James initiated the kiss this time.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~


End file.
